


Three random thoughts

by Shein



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shein/pseuds/Shein
Summary: Three times these words passed through his mind - three random times he thought of something he in no way deserves.But a thought is just that - a thought. It's not real.It's just a selfish suggestion created by a selfish mind.__________________________________Just four random short stories from Arcann's POV about stupid thoughts that really don't have anything better to do than to annoy him.





	Three random thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy.  
> And just so you know: No, English is not my native language. You have been warned :D

He first thought it after their tenth meditation session together. To himself, in quiet, because he expected the words to sound foreign even in his own mind. She had invited him to start meditating a couple of weeks after she had taken his father’s throne and he had hesitantly accepted – startled by her proposition to the one who had tried to murder her on multiple occasions...not to mention the time he decided she should spend the rest of her life frozen in carbonite – with his father of all people as company.

To say he was terrible at it was an understatement. The point of a calm mind had escaped him for decades in his pursuit of worth. He had used his rage as a weapon until he himself became a weapon. With it he had destroyed the Forces of the Republic, the Forces of the Empire, the life of his brother. And the Outlander would just be a continuation of that list. Until Voss, until her show of compassion.

Now she was sitting in front of him, her eyes closed, her breathing steady, both hands on her knees. She seemed to be focused only on her own thoughts...as she had instructed. But he remained terrible at it even with the best of instructions. So he focused on her features, on her calm expression, the sound of her breath, the way her short black hair surrounded her ear, curled in light waves that never touched her shoulders.

And these words appeared in his mind. It was as easy as that. Three random words.

She hadn’t done anything to trigger his thoughts...she had been polite, even relaxed around him at times, but not as familiar as she was with Shan or Beniko (and of course he wasn’t in the least jealous of their treatment.) She had made a routine out of their mediation together each morning, but she had routines with others in the Alliance – and although these were part of her inner circle, he could not deny that the reason behind her interest in him could have simply stemmed from his previous obsession to kill her and not from a sudden interest in...other things.

She hadn’t done anything...and yet, these words were suddenly there. In his mind. Real.

In truth, he had expected her to just send him away after his father’s death – or dump him on some planet where he was wanted dead (and didn’t she have a lovely choice of candidates in that respect). Sure, she felt sympathies for his mother...his brave yet uncompromising mother who had sacrificed everything to save her last son, ironically the same man who had murdered her other, her better son. No matter which acts of atonement he pursued, he would never prove to be worthy of her worry. After all, her last remaining child remained broken, with dreams filled of his own atrocities, not only those committed by his father. And he continued to put her and the Alliance of his rescuer at risk just by being alive and well on Odessen – without trial, without judgement by all those he had harmed.

_“Arcann?”_

No, in all seriousness...even the highest respect for his mother’s will in the mist of unquestionably high odds could not explain his position in her Alliance. He was safe because she bargained for his safety despite diplomatic consequences for her cause. He felt included because she was the only one beside his mother who sought out his presence regularly since his father’s death. And sometimes...sometimes he fooled himself into thinking she even liked to have him by her side. In these moments he thought her smiles would finally reach her eyes after all the others that had simply been acts to lighten the mood. He brought himself to think they were a reaction to his comments, his attempts to tease them out of her and Scyva curse him if he didn’t feel pride every time he was successful. She would even tease him back at times calling him by his mother’s last name whenever she did. It made him think of another, happier reality in which he had followed their mother as a child and would now be worthy of her family name. A reality in which Thexan was alive, Vaylin had received the help she needed and all three had taken their part in the Alliance to take down their father. Yes, she made him dream...if only for a short moment. To him this tiny detail probably amounted to the highest form of progress in their relationship and he loved to argue with her on good terms, just for the fun of it, when nobody was around to hear their words.

_“Staring is rude, Arcann...there isn’t anything on my nose is there?”_

But all of her kind actions towards him were a mystery – he admitted that much. He wasn’t in any position to judge, though. If anything, these thoughts made him even more unfit to judge. They were foolish and far...oh so very far from right. He had no business developing any kind of feelings towards her other than undying gratitude. Gaining her trust was the only worthy goal he could have and maybe...maybe even the distant hope of a friendship. Anything else had to come from his broken mind – after all, only a year ago he had hated her with a passion that knew no boundaries. In the brief moment when his lightsaber had impaled her body, he had felt nothing but accomplishment and pride. In his dreams these emotions were now consumed by shame and fear while her horrified expression and his own triumphant voice would wake him, drenched in sweat with heavy breathing. He wondered whether she suffered from the same nightmares, whether she saw him enjoying every second of her pain before she woke up in tears...or screaming.

Hatred was a familiar concept to him and far too easy to act upon. Its opposite on the other hand was less clear and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t know if he could trust it. After all, whose sick mind would – after years of hatred – suddenly go: oh wait, love.

She was deserving of his admiration and his loyalty...because he could give these to her. Affection however... She had Shan or Beniko for that. One of them...or both if she liked...but somebody who hadn’t run a lightsaber through her.

_“Arcann, this is not funny anymore. Snap out of it or I swear I am going to slap you until you respond. Last warning.”_

Whether it would be Shan or Beniko...or somebody else he would accept her decis-. No, actually, he didn’t need to accept her decision. He had no say in the matter. His atonement was his focus – a path from which he would not divert and from which he could not be distracted. Unless of course she would ask him to intervene...but why would she? Both were affectionate towards her, both had stayed by her side unconditionally against all challenges. Both were deserving of her affection. And he was not. So there it was. Simple, clear and understandable. He would not ask for more.

_“I didn’t want it to come to this, but you really leave me no choice. Three...two...”_

But she would still be willing to meditate with him, wouldn’t she? He enjoyed her company more than he would say out loud and endangering their new form of...silent contempt with one another would probably lead him further into depression. After all, the other Alliance members were reserved towards him and probably would continue to be. He had no right to complain of course and he knew his request was selfish, but he also couldn’t deny his fear of loneliness. This feeling wasn’t new to him although he had denied it in a letter to her (and would in all those that followed), but in moments when his atonement felt insurmountable for only one lifetime with millions of civilians killed and the devastation of entire planets, he wondered whether other people beside her would ever be willing to share anything with him. Only a special person could forgive somebody who had murdered his own brother and cast away his own mother, even with all of his remorse. And he doubted there was a person as special as she was in that respe-

_“...One!”_

She hit him and his head moved painfully to the right, confusion dawning in his eyes while the veil of his thoughts was lifted. He yelled out in anger and sudden pain before he returned to the moment only to notice that he had been staring at her during his contemplations. Her face was only three inches away from his with her expression growing more and more skeptical as if she was actively debating whether or not to slap him again.

“Back in the moment, Mr. Tirall?”

He didn’t answer at first, trying to piece together why she was so close to him and why he feared his body would react like an angsty teenager to that fact. No, you don’t blush now, keep it together, Izax be damned.

“I...don’t, I mean...meditating! I was meditating.”, he said in an attempt to let the awkwardness of it all ebb away by stuttering incoherently before placing an awful big amount of confidence in the last sentence. Still, his words came out so close to a whisper that she almost hadn’t heart them, but when a smile appeared on her face he at least knew she wasn’t going to slap him again. After all, she was capable of beating him senseless.

“Yeah, I would call that deep meditation, Mr. Tirall. Not bad for your tenth day on the job...especially after going on and on during the first five about how you weren’t qualified.”

“I am a fast learner.”, he said, attempting to restore at least a little piece of his touched pride, before adding: “..and I had a very good teacher.”

He had to stay on her good side after all.

“Eternal Flatterer.”

And of course she had to notice. Another one of her smiles formed that she put on when she was certain she had gotten to the bottom of a secret.

“You didn’t look very healthy though – kept staring right through me. Either that is a new Zakulian mediation technique which you forgot to mention or...”

“I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

He looked away, feeling cornered despite of her joking demeanor and the sound of every word in her speech, every signal of her light worry for him. A moment of uncomfortable silence settled between them as she seemed to search for the right approach to discover what worried him and his eyes seemed to search for the nearest exit. He put an abrupt end to it all by standing up, bowing slightly although she had told him not to. It didn’t matter much to him though. She had not taken the throne, but she had earned it. Thereby, she was an Empress.

“I – Thank you for this lesson, Commander. Please excuse me.”

He left without looking at her once more, taking the biggest steps toward the door that his legs were capable of. More impressive though, he left her startled without a witty comeback line, without any line at all. He would have seen that as the real triumph of the day, if he hadn’t been so lost in his new thoughts.

He needed time to think. He needed time to get rid of this illusion. He needed time to meditate.


End file.
